


Classic

by todisturbtheuniverse



Series: Tactical Metaphors [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alcohol, Friendship, Gen, Nostalgia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:31:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1517462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todisturbtheuniverse/pseuds/todisturbtheuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by halberdierminister on Tumblr: Garrus and FemShep take a break to watch Alien and Aliens. But not Alien 3, Alien Resurrection, AVP, AVP Requiem, or Prometheus. Sticking with the classics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Classic

For once, the door to Shepard’s cabin is locked.

Kind of puts a dent in Garrus’s plans. He thought she might be up for a drink; he owes her for sidetracking their mission to go after Dr. Saleon. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might be busy.

Well. One way to find out.

He knocks briskly. “Shepard?”

The reaction is instantaneous: a startled gasp, a hard thump. “Coming,” she croaks, after a beat of silence.

When the door opens, she’s standing there rubbing her tailbone with a sheepish look on her face. “You startled me,” she says. “What’s up, Garrus?”

"Thought you might want a drink." He hefts the two bottles he’s holding. "Wanted to say thanks."

"Mmm." She smiles, eyeing the bottle with blue liquid. "Come on in. I’ll get glasses."

While she rummages in a cabinet, he looks around. There’s a new couch against the left wall and a display taking up a lot of room on her conference table, a picture frozen on the screen. He sits down, trying to make sense of it.

"I was watching a movie when you knocked," she explains, handing him the glasses.

He squints. The picture is unusually fuzzy. “Is that a fishbowl?” he asks.

"No, it’s an old-timey spacesuit," she replies, perfectly serious.

"Well," he says dubiously, pouring out the drinks. "Don’t let me stop the…fun."

She laughs. “It’s a good movie. I’m only twenty minutes in—I’ll just restart it at the beginning.” She settles into the corner of the couch, sipping contentedly, legs stretched out toward him.

They make it a whole ten minutes before Garrus starts laughing into his drink.

"Shut  _up_ , Vakarian,” Shepard growls, shoving his shoulder with her bare feet. “I’m trying to enjoy my cinematic experience over here.”

"This is what humans call a cinematic experience?" he chuckles. "I’m not sure you actually know what that means, Shepard."

"You don’t have to stay," she grumbles. "Go calibrate something."

"And leave you here to drink all the brandy alone? I can make some sacrifices. Just this once."

"It’s not supposed to be historically accurate." She holds out her glass; he obliges. "This was before more than a handful of humans had even gone to space. It was all just guesswork back then."

"The stories got a few things wrong."

The corner of her mouth twitches. “They always do,” she acknowledges. “Now shut up.”

The movie’s bad in a sort of good way, he supposes, and it seems to really mean something to Shepard, so he sticks it out. He’ll have to ask her about it, whenever the movie ends and he can manage to open his mouth without laughing.

He judges it safe when the credits finally roll and all but the dregs of their drinks are gone. “Even your judgment isn’t this bad, Shepard,” he says. “I’m sensing some nostalgia here.”

She doesn’t answer. He glances over to find her asleep: dark hair fanned out over the arm of the couch, cup precariously cradled in slack fingers, lips just barely parted. Her toes are digging into his side. He hadn’t noticed.

Carefully, he plucks the glass out of her grip. She shifts minutely, a little shuffle and contented sigh. He pulls the neatly folded blanket down from the back of the couch and drapes it over her. He hadn’t realized that the little furrow dug into her brow wasn’t permanent; it’s gone now, skin smooth up to her hairline.

"Sleep well, Shepard," he says. He dims the glow of the display on his way out.


End file.
